


He Doesn't Play His Game

by cryme_anocean



Series: We'll Figure it Out [10]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, M/M, Omega Verse, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:50:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2046753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryme_anocean/pseuds/cryme_anocean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He also doesn’t want to bond. With anyone. He doesn’t care if the alpha’s super pretty and smells good; he doesn’t want to be controlled. Not that he’d ever bond with someone younger than him. Hopefully, if he ever does bond, it’ll be with a girl at least two years older than him. That way he won’t have to worry about being controlled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Doesn't Play His Game

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Он не играет в его игры](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6782110) by [Ahe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahe/pseuds/Ahe)



> piecesofres: Can you maybe write something giving an example of how Ian has a “controlling” influence on Mickey because of their bond?  
> second-rate-handjob: i'd like to see ian kinda force mickey to do something with his alpha mojo and mickey has no choice to comply but then is really distrustful of ian and ian has to figure out a way to make it right
> 
> Hey look at that, I'm back to my computer! I'm not sure if this is what you were wanting or not, but this is what you get! Also, I'm pretty sure Mickey's out of character. Or maybe not. Let me know what you guys think of this one. I'm also not very good at angst. I can never make people feel the feels. So, sorry about that one. 
> 
> COMMENTS, KUDOS, BOOKMARKS, SUBSCRIPTIONS, AND EVERY FUCKING READER IS APPRECIATED AND LOVED!!!

**2005**

 

_“Alphas are a powerful race. In the early years, Omegas and Alphas were almost equals. The only difference really being that Omegas could carry children and Alphas could not. Scientists aren’t actually sure what caused the genetic mutation that allows certain Alphas more control over their Omegas. It seems to have originated in 1824 when the first case of an Alpha using the bond with their Omega to control said Omega was recorded. It seems to have spread quickly, although scientists are unsure why. It can only occur inside of a bond and doesn’t affect mating in any way. The only thing scientists know for sure is: if your child was born an Alpha in 1994 or any year after that, they will most likely be able to control their mate.”_

 

Even at eleven years old, that doesn’t sound appealing. Having been born an Omega, Mickey Milkovich knows the certain things expected of him. For instance, bonding at a young age, preferably whenever his uterus has fully developed, or bearing multitudes of children. Mickey hates kids. He hates Mandy, really. She’s clingy and annoying even though she’s eight. He’s sure he won’t want kids.

 

He also doesn’t want to bond. With anyone. He doesn’t care if the alpha’s super pretty and smells good; he doesn’t want to be controlled. Not that he’d ever bond with someone younger than him. Hopefully, if he ever does bond, it’ll be with a girl at least two years older than him. That way he won’t have to worry about being controlled.

-

**2011**

Ian Gallagher smells like home and his body is warm and right against his. His teeth are sharp and sometimes he’s afraid he’ll break the skin when he scrapes them along his neck, but he never does.

 

Ian Gallagher is the wimpiest alpha he’s ever met. He’s a pushover. He lets Mickey get away with things his older brothers—all alphas—would never let even their girlfriends get away with. So he pushes it. He pushes too far and he loses Ian. He loses him. And he’s never wished to bond more than he did then.

-

**2015**

He’s taking a leap of faith telling Ian he wants to bond. He knows, he fucking _knows_ , that Ian was born in that time period of Alphas who can control their Omegas. He has no way of knowing, though, if Ian can do it. And he’s terrified. He’s really, really scared because what if Ian can. What if he can? Mickey doesn’t want to become one of those mindless Omegas. He’s seen them. Their Alpha says something and they hang onto every word. It’s pathetic.

-

**2015**

 

They’re living in between places. They spend time at the Gallaghers and then they’ll spend some time at the Milkovichs. Terry is in prison right now, so they don’t have to worry about that. And they were doing that before the bond. They were living at the Gallaghers and they were fine. They hardly fought over domestic stuff like cleaning. And now they do all the fucking time.

 

“Mickey, I fucking told you to start a load of laundry!” Ian bursts into the bathroom and throws the shower curtain aside.

 

Mickey jumps and grabs onto the wall for support, “What the fuck are you doing in here, Ian!?”

 

“I told you to start a load of laundry!” He repeats, face flushing with anger.

 

“No, you didn’t. You said: Mickey, can you start a load of laundry? You didn’t tell me. You asked.”

 

“That fuckin means do it, you piece of shit.”

 

“Why the fuck can't you do it?”

 

“What!? Why can't _you_ do it! **The second you get out of the shower, start the laundry**.” He slams the door behind him.

 

It’s a subtle kind of feeling. He can't put a finger on the exact moment he realized it. He can’t say when he knew what he was feeling. All he knows is the second he turns off the water, he’s downstairs pouring detergent into the machine before he realizes it. He’s dripping wet and naked and Ian’s washing dishes. Lip is on the couch with Liam and Debbie and Carl are at the table doing homework.

 

“Mickey, why are you naked?” Debbie asks with that subtle tone of innocence that most of things she says have.

 

Ian turns just as he does, finger hovering over the start button. Ian’s eyebrows shoot up, “Why the hell are you naked? Are you… still wet? Mickey! **Go dry off** , Jesus.”

 

Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking– _no_. He’s upstairs rubbing the towel down his legs before he realizes. Again. And then it hits him. Ian is a part of the Alphas who can– _fuck_. He feels tears of anger burning the backs of his eyes.

 

Ian’s arms are crossed across his chest as he leans in the doorway. “Why the hell did you come downstairs naked?”

 

“’Cause you fuckin told me to.” He growls and turns away, pulling on the clothes he’d left in the bathroom.

 

“No I didn’t.”

 

“Yeah, you fucking did. You said to go do the laundry the second I got out of the shower.”

 

“Are you being a smart ass?”

 

He whips around, shirt half on, “You fuckin think this is a joke? Tell me to do something else, Ian.”

 

Ian stares at him for a long time and Mickey realizes that he doesn’t know. He never heard about the Alphas who can control their Omegas. “ **Come here and suck my dick**.”

 

Seriously? That fuckin—he’s on his knees in front of Ian, already pulling his dick out by the time he even hears Ian’s words. “Shit, no seriously, **don’t**.”

 

Mickey stands. He pushes away from Ian and drags his hands through his hair. He’s been afraid of this for as long as he can remember. Afraid of turning into a mindless drone like the girls or sometimes boys he sees on TV or on the street. He doesn’t want. Doesn’t want Ian anymore, doesn’t want this. Not if this is the consequence.

 

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. Of course, he thinks. Of fucking course the first and only good thing to happen to him would end up like this. The first thing that made him feel good about himself would damage him this much. He wants to cry. He won’t cry. He turns back to Ian.

 

“What’s going on, Mick?”

 

He looks up at the ceiling because how do you explain this to someone? How do you tell someone that they can control you? “You’ve got this… _thing_.”

 

“What kind of thing? A bipolar kind of thing or an Alpha kind of thing?”

 

He brings his thumb up to chew on the dying skin. “I dunno. You fuckin… you fuckin can control me or some shit.”

 

“I can what?”

 

“You fucking heard me.”

 

“Yeah I just…” Ian doesn’t finish. He stares at him. “Is this like a make or break kind of thing with you?”

 

“Yeah,”

-

**2017**

He learns to control it. They talk to doctors and specialists. It actually depends on the way Ian pulls the bond. All he has to do is not pull on the bond when he’s really upset. It’s not that hard. It shouldn’t be that hard. It’s not. It’s not that hard. Not until Ian gets really pissed at him that one day.

 

“… and you always fucking do that! You always fucking treat me like I’m not equal to you, like I’m not your mate, just your Omega. And I don’t know if it’s because your boss expects you to treat me like that or what, but we fuckin agreed that I’m your equal. All the time, no matter what. And you’re not making me feel like your equal, Ian.”

 

“Mickey, **shut up and sit down**. Just fucking–” Ian’s eyes widen as he realizes what he’s done. He stares at him hard and angry, blinking fast because he will not cry. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

 

“Shut the fuck up.” He stands and he leaves. He closes himself in their bedroom and this is the first time he wishes that they’d chosen an apartment closer to his old house. The lock snaps in place and he looks around. He’s gonna leave, he decides. He won’t stay here for this. He won’t. He just needs to be alone. He needs to be away from Ian. He abused his position of power. He abused it. And Mickey can never trust him again. Not now. Ian knows how much he hates that. He hates it. This is the first time it’s ever been used against him. And he wants to pull his hair out.

 

Ian raps on the door, “Mickey, let me in.” Mickey doesn’t respond. He grabs a duffle bag buried in the back of the closet and stuffs whatever he can grab into it.

 

He feels out of sorts. He feels anxious, body shaking, and the betrayal burns at him. He stares at bag for a long time before he finally zips it up. He huffs and moves to their bathroom, stuffing his toothbrush, toothpaste, and suppressants into a side pocket.

 

He pulls the door open and pushes past Ian. “Where are you going?” Ian asks a little desperately. He doesn’t turn around, just grabs his wallet from the counter and continues on. “Mickey? Are you leaving? Where are you going?”

 

“Wherever the fuck I want, Gallagher. You aren’t my fuckin keeper. Get off my ass.” He shoves the front door open—it gets stuck—and heads for his old house. Thankfully it’s summer.

-

“Is he with you?” He’s out of breath, eyes searching frantically around Tony’s large frame.

 

Tony pushes him away, “Get the fuck outta here, Gallagher.”

-

He’s gone for a week. A whole fucking week. His biology is screaming at him to pull on the bond, demand Mickey come home. He won’t. He won’t force Mickey back. But he can’t keep going on like this.

 

He doesn’t sleep in their bed. He won’t sleep in their bed without Mickey. So he sleeps on the couch. And it smells fucking gross. It stinks of ball sweat and stale Cheetos. But he can't sleep in a bed that smells of stale sex and Mickey. _MickeyMickeyMickeyMickey_ his mind chants.

 

He doesn’t know how to make it better. He doesn’t know how to fix this. And he can’t even _talk_ to Mickey so how is he supposed to know what to do?

-

He runs out of clothes. He runs out and he has to go back. He can't keep wearing the same clothes to the garage. So he does. And he’s afraid of Ian demanding him to stay. He knows that’s what he’ll want to do. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he ends up doing it.

 

“Mickey!” Ian’s at his side before he’s even in the door.

 

“I just came back for clothes.”

 

“No, no! Stay. Please. Just… let’s talk. Please? Let me talk, let me make this right.” Ian’s pathetic. He’s begging and Mickey really thinks he’s fucking pathetic. So he punches that pathetic look off his face.

 

“Shut the fuck up, Gallagher. I don’t have shit to say to you.” And Ian’s lip is bleeding but he clutches at Mickey’s arm.

 

“Please, Mickey. Please let me. I miss you. I need you. And if you want to end the bond then tell me, but don’t stay away like this. I can't think without you. Please. I need you.”

 

 _No_! Of course he doesn’t want to end the bond. No. He can’t… no. So he throws the duffle bag down and sits on the couch, crossing his arms.

 

“If you got so much to say, Gallagher, then you better start fuckin talking.”

 

Ian scrambles to sit across from him on the floor. He notices the blankets underneath him. Was Ian sleeping on the couch? “I didn’t want to. You have to know that I didn’t want to command you like that. You have to know that I didn’t want to.”

 

“Then what the fuck was that?”

 

“Biology. My Alpha sensed your distress and I just wanted you to _hear me_. You weren’t listening. You weren’t hearing me. And I didn’t want to command you but I did and I’m sorry.”

 

“It can't fucking happen again.”

 

“No, never.”

 

“I can’t do it, Ian. I can't fuckin… you can't command me like that. I’m not your _Omega_ , I’m your _partner_. We’re partners in this or we aren’t shit.”

 

“No, I know. We… we talked about it before. I know.”

 

Mickey sucks in a breath and looks down at the blankets beneath him. It hurts. And it was– _is_ a make or break kind of thing for him. Always has been. But Ian’s never followed his rules. Ian’s never played his game. And Mickey’s loved him for that. Mickey loves him for that. And this can never happen again. Never. But Ian’s his exception to everything. Ian’s his Alpha, _his_ not just _the_ Alpha of the relationship. And the same goes for him. They belong to each other. Mickey is not a possession and Ian’s never treated him like one. Well, he has, but it's when he’s jealous and they always fuck rough and hard just like he likes afterward. “Okay.”

 

“We’re good?”

 

“Yeah, but you can never do it again Ian. You fuckin know how I feel. You can't ever do that shit again.”

 

“No, I know. I won’t.”

 

“Okay…” He waits. He waits because he knows what’s next.

 

“Can I… make it up to you?”

 

“Just ask me if we can fuck, Firecrotch, don’t make it sound pretty.”

 

He huffs a laugh, “Sorry. Can I fuck you, Mick?”

 

“Fuck me.”

**Author's Note:**

> WE CAN HANG OUT MORE ON TUMBLR!! I'm [guessiliedinthehook](http://guessiliedinthehook.tumblr.com//), let's be BFFS!


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